Putting the "Wa?" in The War of Northern Aggression. (Nope. That was horrible. I'm so sorry.)

First and foremost, I'd just like to give everyone a quick Joe Biden & The BFDs update: STRIDES. We are making strides, thank you.

1.) I forgot that Helena's boyfriend, Jonathan, actually plays the keyboard and guitar, so if he teaches Helena to play the keyboard and hops on guitar, we're two giant steps closer to releasing our first EP, "This Is a Big Fucking Deal".

2.) I referred to Jonathan in passing as Helena's "Tandoori Boyfriend" the other day, and while I'm not saying it wasn't slightly racist, I'm also not saying it wasn't slightly hilarious. Ergo, our new band name is Joe Biden & The BFD's, featuring Tandoori Boyfriend. Plus, if No Doubt has taught us anything, it's that it's always a good idea to get an attractive Indian guy in the mix. That and I wouldn't hate if Claire's started selling bindis again.

3.) This has nothing to do with the band, but Andrew and I got into a conversation the other day about what Camryn Manheim's been up to and thanks to my TV being muted on WE all day, I now have the answer: she's on Ghost Whisperer. K. I feel better.

4.) I also totally forgot that Laura plays the violin, which means we could get some ironic fiddle action going and ain't nothin' wrong with that. I mean, it worked for The Decemberists and Arcade Fire. That and I know for a fact she can play "The Devil Went Down to Georgia", which is a point of pride that I know all the words to. Ergo, we are now three steps closer to our first EP.

5.) I found an iphone app that teaches you to play the bass guitar. Best idea ever or BEST IDEA EVER? I'm going to my parent's house to borrow my car tomorrow and you bet your Biden I'm going to grab my bass as well. Although I highly doubt it's in tune anymore. And I don't know how to tune it. I guess I could put an ad on Craigslist for someone to come over and tune it for me? Although it might be kind of hard to play the it when I'm a lampshade... Choices. I'm going to stop typing my inner monologue now.

6.) Uh, just kidding, because in addition to Jennifer Love Hewitt, did you know that Jeremy London, a very bloated Jamie Kennedy, and Rachael Leigh Cook are on Ghost Whisperer? I feel like I just found a mass grave filled with 1998.

7.) Also, Rachel Leigh Cooke doesn't look that horrible with blond hair, which I find shocking and unfair because we have similar coloring, yet when I had blond hair I looked like a raging meth addict with a failed home daycare center.

See? Strides.

If you know me at all, you know that there are four things on my bucket list:

1.) Stand in a cranberry bog

2.) Own a confederate flag bikini

3.) Have sex in a hot tub (I'm aware of the health risks, thank you, but I'd still like to go for it.)

4.) Direct and star in a training montage set to Al Corley's "Square Rooms"

I was doing some research on #2 the other night, as you do, when I came across the most perplexing bumper sticker I have ever seen in my entire life:

I just don't get it. I JUST. DON'T. GET IT. And I don't mean that in a, "Ohhh, how could anyone put something so offensive on their car??" kind of way, I mean that I literally don't understand what message that bumper sticker is trying to convey. And it's all that I think about now. It has consumed my life. It's the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, and the only thing I think about when I go to bed. I think about it in the shower, I think about it when I'm getting ready, I think about it when I'm riding the metro, I think about it when I'm hanging out with friends, I think about it when I'm watching TV, I think about it when I'm writing—it's completely taken over my life. Because I need to know: If you'd known what?

If I had known this. "THIS". WHAT IS THIS?! If we take away the writing, we're left with a small Battle Flag of the Confederacy in the corner of a large white plane, which is The Second Confederate Navy Ensign, or "The Stainless Banner":


So had this person know something about The Second Confederate Navy Ensign, they would have picked their own cotton? Let's just ignore that that's specifically the Stainless Banner and accept that it represents the cause of the Confederacy, right? Well, I still don't fucking get it. Because the question remains: if I had known WHAT?? Known that the South would secede from the Union? Know that they'd fail? Know that there'd be a civil war? I've been polling pretty much every single person I've come in contact with in the past week and a half, and while we've come up with some theories, I'm not really in love with any of them.

1.) My original theory was that it's an anti-Confederate bumper sticker. I thought it meant like, had I known there would be a giant civil war that would give birth to generations of bitter, racist redneck assholes, I would have picked my own cotton. Because if I had I picked my own cotton, there would have never been slavery, and if there had never been slavery, there would have never been a war, and if there had never been a war, the Confederacy would have never existed, and had the Confederacy never existed, we wouldn't have bitter, racist redneck assholes today. There are two problems with this theory, however. First, there's just something about the phrase "picked my own cotton" that doesn't feel terribly sympathetic. I feel like it's a pretty good rule of thumb in general that:

"Picked"

+

"Cotton"

+

Confederate flag

=

Also, the bumper sticker is sold on a scary, southern, I-listen-to-a-lot-of-3-Doors-Down-and-might-bring-a-gun-to-my-school-and-just-let-it-all-wash-over-me website. They sell a lot of intense-looking gun accessories, scopes, silencers, knives, bullets, and absurdly racist novelties. My personal favorite is the pack of five "FEMA Gold'n Tickets".



The front says: "Bearer of this ticket is entitled to one free house, a hot tub, a 60" plasma TV, your choice of a Volvo or BMW(may be preowned), a lifetime supply of food, all hair care products, lots O' Bling Bling, 2 voter registration cards, and grants holder permission to bitch about not git'n what they should be git'n from the govenrment. Offer Void to Republicans, Taxpayers or Any Other Productive Members of Society."

And the back: "This Ticket Will Allow The Bearer To Move To The Front Of The Welfare Line And To Get A Free Bottle Of Mad Dog 20/20 Anywhere That is Accepted!"

...OOOF. It's not not flagrantly racist. Not quite as good, but still pretty enjoyable is the Headlines From the Year 2029 poster, featuring: "Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed, they can now photograph a woman with her mouth shut." HA HA, sexism.

My point being, this doesn't really seem like a website that would sell anti-Confederate anything.

2.) My parents' theory is that it's re: "uppity black people", if you will. (And I won't, but I will temporarily for the sake of sussing this out.) Like, if I had known that the slaves would be freed and become so uppity, I would have picked my own cotton. Or conversely, you could look at it in a "FEMA Gold'n Ticket" kind of way and interpret it as, if I had known that one day the slaves would be free and all our tax money would go to supporting them, I would have picked my own cotton. I mean, it works, but I'm not like, "OHHHHH, duh," you know? It doesn't click. I need it to click. (And again, I stress that my parents and I don't agree with any of this, we're just trying to get my life back.)

3.) Piggybacking off the UBP theory, what if it's an Obama thing? If you dissociate this from the rebel flag and assume that the rebel flag is only there to let us know that WARNING: shit's about to get rull racist, it could be like, if I had known that one day the slaves would be free and one of them would become the President, I would have picked my own cotton? Again, it works, but I don't think it's the winner. Mostly because rednecks aren't terribly well-versed in the art of subtlety:









4.) I was really banking on Laura having the answer because she was a history major, and in my mind that means she has the answer to everything. Her best guess was, if I had known that the South would lose and it would be a giant hot-mess, I would have picked my own cotton. And...yeah, I guess. But again, it doesn't quite hit the spot.

So then I took a page from my own book and decided to do what I did when I couldn't figure out what "hit the switch" meant in Dr. Dre's "Xxplosive": I emailed a webmaster.

To whom it may concern: 

I'm putting together a care package for my brother who's fighting overseas in Afghanistan and I just want to clarify the meaning of one of your bumper stickers. Can you tell me what: "If I had known this, I would have picked my own cotton," means? We are from South Carolina and he has lots of Southern pride, so I just want to be sure the guys over there will like it. Again my email is meghan.c.xxxxxxx@gmail.com. 

God bless! 

- Meghan

And to my shock, those assholes totally didn't email me back! Which doesn't make sense because that email had everything: a brother overseas, The Troops, Afghanistan, South Carolina, Southern pride, "over there", God bless!—COME ON! So basically my well-crafted email to a small Internet boutique owner failed miserably, whereas the email I sent to Dr. Dre's webmaster in 2002 saying, "Hi, Meg here. I'm a big Dre. Dre fan, but I can't figure out what 'hit the switch' means and it's driving me crazy. Please advise," actually got results. There is just so much I don't understand in this world...

So I'm turning to you, Internetz. What the hell does that bumper sticker mean?! Crack the code and I'll give you a free SOLD OUT Sorr About the Bag tote bag. Good luck and God speed. In the mean time, I'll be researching something I can actually wrap my head around—cranberry bogs and hot tubs.

Tips for assimilating back into society

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH AND AN INCONVENIENCED SIGH. Welp. Here I am. Back in this dump show of an office after seven glorious days of being curled up in my bed with nary a worry or pair of pants in sight for miles. I knew the dream couldn't last forever, but that doesn't mean I'm not bitter about it.

HOWEVER! I have three items of good news:

1.) It's T.G.I. Hagman. And how bad can life really be when it's T.G.I.-fuckin'-Hagman, am I right or am I right??



As of 1:16pm on Friday, February 12, 2010, Larry Hagman is...............alive! God is good all of the time, and all of the time, God is good.

2.) I got the following email the other day from 2b reader Aline:

Hi Meg,
I was reading gawker, and it said something about omegle.com. I'm not usually up for chatting with strangers, but I was bored, and 'tis the snowpocalypse (read: there is nothing better to do), so why not?

Anyway, the first person signed in, said "I'm sad" and left.

The second person, signed in and only said "2birds1blog.com. Read it." and then they left (Convo log below). I think that you should get all of your readers to do that. Hi-Larious. Well that's it. I'm headed out into the snow to go to CVS :( Hope you get to feeling better!

Cheers,
Aline

___

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

Stranger: hi

You: hi!

Stranger: 2birds1blog.com. Read it.

You: Really? I already do-isn't it funny?

Your conversational partner has disconnected.

I. LOVE. IT. Mostly because that stranger wasn't me and it makes me excited when people besides myself pimp out the blog like a small Mexican boy with chicle on the 'nets. So to whoever is going on ohmegle.com to promote the blog, I have a gift for you. And that gift is in my pants and rhymes with "schot schmex."

3.) According to an unconfirmed rumor circulating via Laura, Luke and The Tranny from More to Love BROKE UP!!!!!1 Initially I was heart-broken when I heard this because if two people could ever make it in this crazy, mixed-up world, it was them. BUT! This does open the door for a More to Love 2. And you know I'm crossing my fingers that it's called, More to Love 2: Back for Seconds.

So there. Life is good. And as bitter as I am that I have to be back in this shanty town, I am slightly psyched to not be holed up in my apartment anymore. Cabin Fever was starting to set in big time and things were getting..."unique." But slowly, DC is digging itself out it's snow coffin and getting back to real life (until next week's Snowpocalypse, that is.) I thought instead of giving you a drinking game this week, I'd be helpful and share with all of you cracked-out snowy Washingtonians a few tips I've found helpful for assimilating back into society. Enjoy.

5 Tips For Assimilating Back Into Society After The Snowpocalypse

1.) Listening in on other people's conversions is not appropriate because they are not on TV.
Surprising! I know. Halfway through dinner at James Hoban's the other night, Helena realized she had zoned out and was awkwardly staring at the people sitting next to us and blatantly listening to their conversation. Apparently in a post-Snowpocalypto society, this is not "appropriate," as other people do not exist solely for our own entertainment. Don't worry, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it too, but together we can get through this.

2.) A two year old box of Zattaran's Dirty Rice, a bag of confectioner's sugar and a Black and Mild does not a meal make.
Nothing makes you think outside of the culinary box like being confined to the contents of your own dusty kitchen for days on end. I never have food in my apartment to begin with, so this past week has been particularly interesting for me. One time Anna unexpectedly crashed at my place for a weekend in college and she compared the experience to living in Communist Russia. While I was working on a paper one night, she started to complain that she was starving. I promised we'd order food as soon as I was done, but hours later when I was still writing and she was still starving, she ventured into my kitchen to see what she could find. Five minutes later, she returned and put the following on my desk: a box of Goldfish crackers, a jar of cloves and AN single Busch Light. "This is literally all you have in your kitchen," she said weakly. With a shaking little hand, she slowly put the jar of cloves on top of the box of Goldfish, cracked open the Busch Light, pointed to it and asked, ".....Cook it for me?" Shortly after, I gave in and we ordered out.

In the past week, I have consumed every single Goldfish cracker and every random Holiday spice hidden in my kitchen. I ate vintage pizza from 1994. I drank a bottle of Manischewitz wine I found behind a bunch of DVD's, covered in an inch of dust. I don't remember what "vegetables" taste like.

I'm genuinely nervous about the weight I'm going to gain this weekend because I don't know how to handle all of the food options that are now open to me. I hoofed it to Baja Fresh yesterday, patiently waited in line and proceeded to ask them to take the contents of their kitchen, put it in one of those sour cream gun dispensers and inject it directly into my stomach. Just because the option was open to me. And they did. And it was wonderful.

3.) Chugging from a half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan's at 11am while wearing loose fitting clothing is called being homeless.
If this were Snowpocalypse: you'd be drunk by now.

4.) Your life is not a Bravo reality TV show, so stop narrating it to the wall when you're on the john.
Something tells me this might only be applicable to me...so I will move on.

5.) Jokes that were funny when stuck in your house and incredibly cracked out might not translate to the real world.
My prime example of this is Seanvote.

Over the course of Snowpocalypse, I played a lot of Words With Friends (iphone Srabble app. Username: Meg4lYfe. No big deal.) with Helena's boyfriend, Jonathan. At one point, he was absolutely destroying me. Like, embarrassingly so. I needed to pull out a big gun, but the letters were not on my side. Round after round, I played words like "AN," 'HI" and "AT" while thinking, "If only SEANVOTE were a real word, I could turn this fucking game around right here and right now!" Helena then pointed out that that's the benefit of real scrabble: if you're convincing enough, any word can be a real word. Thus, we set out to make Seanvote "happen." We decided Seanvote is a substitute for the word "shit" and can have both positive and negative connotations. For example, "Dude, that band is the fucking seanvote." Or, "Fuck that guy. He's just a worthless pile of seanvote." Or, "Oh man, pull over, I gotta take the biggest seanvote."

Believe it or not, this was incredibly funny to us at the time. So much so that when we met up with Jenna and Laura for drinks last night, we shamelessly continued to substitute it for the word "shit" until it caught on. And I don't know if it was because Jenna and Laura were just as cracked out as we were or if it was because there was alcohol involved, but it totally did:


So, really, I amend this tip to: Jokes that were funny when stuck in your house and cracked out might not translate to the real world. Unless it's the word SEANVOTE. In which case you should totally spread it around like wild fire.

Welp, that's gonna do it for us here this week! WAIT, NEVER MIND. I just checked my email and got this amazing Winter Olympics Drinking Game from 2b reader Veronica, written by her friend Chelsea. And frankly, it's too good not to share. So I bid you adieu and leave you with Chelsea's Winter Olympics Drinking Game! As always, thank you so much for reading and spreading the 2b1b word. Hope you don't have a seanvotty weekend (bahaha...see what I did there?!) and we'll see you back here Monday morning when hopefully I'm less cracked out, have done something more blog-worthy than napped pantsless and have regained my sense of humor. Buh-bye!


Rules:
- Drink when a figure skater is shown
- Drink twice if it's Johnny Weir
- Finish your drink if he's referred to as "controversial"
- Finish your drink whenever someone triumphs over adversity
- Drink when "the native people" perform a traditional dance
- Drink when someone mentions the 1980 USA Olympic Hockey Team
- Drink twice if a member of the 1980 USA Olympic Hockey Team is shown
- Drink when you see a mountie
- Drink when someone says "aboot"
- Drink when someone mentions the Jamaican Bobsled Team
- Finish your drink if the Jamaican Bobsled Team is there
- Finish your drink when the country you are representing enters the arena
- Drink when someone says "curling"
- Drink when someone says "luge"
- Drink when someone is referred to as a "gold medal favorite"
- Drink whenever someone says, "I'm just happy to be here"
- Do a shot if someone is "not expected to place well but just here for the experience,"(see above re: Jamaican Bobsled Team)
- Do a shot when the US Team enters the arena
- Do a shot when the torch is lit